


What A Lovely Way To Burn

by blanchtt



Series: 500X LEDA [16]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canon Timeline, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: She comes to, opens eyes and finds herself sitting upright at a table – a café, though not one she knows. But it is Paris, she knows, except it’s all wrong, because just down the street the city fades away in a hazy whiteness, an unfinished thought, and there is no one walking on the streets and no cars honking, and across from her sits Beth Childs.





	What A Lovely Way To Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Rare-pair minific prompt: Beth/Delphine, inside the sun.
> 
> I am so happy to have something to add to the Ignis Aurum Probat AU.

 

 

 

 

She comes to, opens eyes and finds herself sitting upright at a table – a café, though not one she knows. But it _is_ Paris, she knows, except it’s all wrong, because just down the street the city fades away in a hazy whiteness, an unfinished thought, and there is no one walking on the streets and no cars honking, and across from her sits Beth Childs, very much alive.

 

“I am dead, aren’t I?” Delphine asks, although she’s probably actually _dying_ , a hemorrhage somewhere the cause of this nonsense near-death dream.

 

“Halfway there,” Beth says, and it’s said with something like regret. She sits slumped against the seat, a glass of wine in hand, and it’s that, the wine, that reminds Delphine that dream or not, this is not good, and the kiss in front of Alison’s shop is the last time she’ll have seen Cosima.

 

She stands abruptly, wonders what will happen if she tries to walk away. But her limbs are heavy and she only succeeds in standing, Beth watching her gently the entire time. “No,” she says, hands braced against the table, because they are so close, she knows. “No. I can’t die. Not now.”

 

“That’s the spirit,” Beth says congenially, and raises her glass in a toast before taking a sip.

 

Delphine swallows thickly, thinks about carbon dioxide collecting in dying lungs, and opts to stay away from the light. Cosima saw her, once, in very similar circumstances. She sits again, shakes her head, and has to ask. She’s never met Beth before. This is projection of what little she knows about her, probably gleaned from scant facts overhear from Sarah, or worse yet taken wholesale from Sarah’s impersonation of her.

 

“Why you?”

 

At that, Beth lets out a small laugh, sits up like she’s interested now, and puts down her glass.

 

“It’s never quite who we want to see, is it?” Beth agrees, squaring her shoulders as she gets comfortable against the hard metal seat, and now, come to life, unable to sit still, Delphine sees how drastically wrong Sarah attempted to play her. It’s akin to asking Alison to masquerade as Cosima. “I saw Sarah.”

 

And Delphine lets out a laugh despite herself, because they’re in the exact same boat. What luck she has to imagine her lover’s sister instead in the precious few moments she has left.

 

They lapse back into silence, though only momentarily. Beth nods towards her with a purpose, eyes glancing down, like she’s pointing, “Does your side hurt?” she asks matter-of-factly, and Delphine is aware, quite suddenly, that her side is warm. Infection, or merely the inflammatory process? Whatever it is, it likely fares better for her than a feeling of coldness.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.” Beth sniffs loudly, looks away before meeting her eyes again. “I didn’t believe in this shit either, at least not before I started digging.” At the memories, Beth wavers, mouth pinched, but continues, a hand flicking through the air in a gesture too sharp to be Cosima’s. “I’m guessing we’re alike in that way, right?”

 

If that is true, she regrets that she never had the chance to meet the real Elizabeth Childs. Delphine nods her agreement, watches as Beth pushes back her chair with the scrape of metal feet on cobblestone. “Get up,” Beth says, and it is not an order as much as it is an invitation she desperately wants to follow. A push is necessary, everything lead lead lead, but Delphine feels herself, her limbs, obey. She stands, and there is that same difference in height, that same feeling of _what in the world is going to happen next_ , she and Cosima across from each other.

 

There table between them was a small one, and it takes Beth only a few slow steps to toe up to her, eyes narrowed.

 

“We might not show appreciation well,” Beth admits, and it is not said as angrily as Delphine thinks she might have said herself if the situation were reversed. Because Beth, this Beth in this too-bright place, must know the positions she has been in, the players that moved them all, and Beth’s mouth does go soft, a sad smile as a hand reaches up, cups the curve of her jaw familiar enough that Delphine almost turns into the gesture. “But thank you.”

 

Beth’s lips brush hers, a comforting gesture more than a passionate one, and soon enough she’s backed down, the hand gone, and Delphine watches Beth glance down, check at a watch on her wrist that glints in the sunlight.

 

“I’m going to tell you something that got me through a lot of races,” Beth says, and Delphine nods, stays quiet despite panic that grows in her chest at the terrible realization that they are likely running out of time. “‘The body achieves what the mind believes,'" Beth quotes, and Delphine can't place where it's from. "And, just like in a race,” Beth says, look pointed as she shoves her hands in her coat's pockets, turns away just a little. “You do with that what you will. Alright?”

 

Delphine opens her mouth to speak, but Beth, even unseeing, shakes her head, cuts her off, although despite the interruption it takes her a moment to speak.

 

“Don’t thank me,” Beth says, tone encouraging even she turns and steps away. “Just do it.”

 

 

 

 

And so she does.

 

 

 

 


End file.
